Seeking Sanctuary
by staceycj
Summary: AU: Dean shows up on Sam and Jessica's doorstep battered and bruised seeking sactuary-just for a little while.
1. Chapter 1

"Don't forget to come home tomorrow on your lunch break, the cable guy is coming out." Jessica said as she pulled her side of the comforter down.

"What time do I need to take lunch then?" Sam asked as he reached into the chest of drawers for his pajama pants.

"They SAY that they'll be at the house between 11:30 and 1."

"Don't they realize that people work?" Sam asked as he slipped the flannel over his slender hips.

"I know I know." Jessica sighed as she hunkered down into the warm depths of the bed. "They said they'd call when they were close."

"They said that the last time and then got pissed at us because we weren't there because we never got the call." Sam sighed and got into bed next to his beautiful wife. "Do they have my cell number?"

"That's the one I gave them," she waited until he was settled and turned off the lamp. And with a practiced grace of two people who had been married for 9 years, Sam wrapped himself around her, spooning her, holding her hands in his.

"Goodnight. I love you." He said softly.

"Love you too."

Sleep had just overtaken Sam when he heard the knock on the door. His eyes opened, and he looked around the room. The knock came again, this time it sounded more like a thump rather than a knock.

"What's that noise?" Jessica asked softly.

"It sounds like someone is knocking on the front door." Sam said. Jessica touched a button on her cell phone and the illuminated screen indicated that it was past midnight.

"Who would be here this late?" she asked.

"Your sister on the outs again with her boyfriend?" Sam asked as he got out of bed and pulled on a shirt. The knock again.

"Not that I know of." She said pulling on her robe.

Both hurried downstairs and they heard the knock just as they both reached the bottom of the stairs and instead of a third rap on the door they heard what sounded like something falling against the door. Sam hurried, turned on the light, and unlocked the door, he peeked outside and found a male form crumpled onto the ground, and in illumination of the porch light he saw blood pulling underneath the form's mouth.

"Oh God." He said and quickly opened the door wide, and did his best to push through the storm door without smacking the poor man's head while he did so.

"What's going on Sam?" Jessica asked.

"Stay back!" Sam ordered and Jessica halted her steps towards the door. Sam knelt down next to the man, grabbed him by the shoulders and sat him up, his head lulled boneless on his neck and the light poured onto his face. It was Dean. Dean with a battered and bruised face, blood was streaming from a cut in his hairline; blood was beginning to congeal under his nose, on his chapped and raw lips, and matting his untended beard. Sam's brother, whom he hadn't seen since he was 18 years old almost 13 years before was in a bloodied heap on his porch, and he looked like he was dead. And something deep inside of Sam knew that Dean would want to see him one more time before he died, and that same part of him knew that Dean wouldn't want to die alone. Sam's trembling fingers went to his brother's neck and felt for a pulse, and time seemed to stand still as his fingers waited for the thump against their sensitive pads and when it finally came, it was like someone poured ice water into his veins, veins that had been on fire with anxiety. Sam had to fight to stay alert and not succumb to the cold of relief.

"Dean." Sam said more shakily than he wished. He got behind his brother and tried to pull him into a sitting position, tried to get him to wake up enough for Sam to get him inside. "Dean. Come on man." He tried again and lightly slapped the less bruised of his brother's cheeks.

Dean roused a little and opened his eyes, "Come on Dean, you have to stand up so I can get you inside."

"Sammy?" Dean slurred. "'sthat you?"

"Yeah, Dean, it's me Sammy." Sam swallowed hard, tying to push the lump of emotion out of his throat. "Jessica?" He called. "I need some help." The storm door opened and his wife was at the ready.

"What? Oh my God. What happened to this man?" she asked.

"I don't know. Help me get him inside." Without hesitation she put her hands under the man's arms and helped her husband get him inside, out of the cold, out of the snow, out of the elements that were normal for November in Colorado. It took the two of them and a prayer or ten to get the man upstairs and into the guest room.

"Help me get his boots off." Sam said and began assessing the damage. Sam touched and poked and prodded, looking for broken bones or signs of internal bleeding. All he could find were superficial wounds, and a lump on the back of his head that told Sam he more than likely had a mild concussion and that was the reason for the unconsciousness. _Idiot must have drove here from God knows where with a concussion, stupid idiot._ Sam chastised in his head.

"We should call a doctor." Jessica said, her eyes bright blue with worry.

"No! No doctor." Sam said sharply, a little too sharply perhaps.

"Sam. Look at him. He looks like he's been to hell and back. He needs a doctor."

"He won't stay even if we take him."

"How do you know Sam?"

Sam looked up into his wife's eyes and said softly, "He's my brother. And my brother doesn't do hospitals, no matter how close to death he is." The breath was knocked from Jessica at those words and she looked back down at the bruised and battered man and then at her husband.

"This is Dean?" She asked softly.

"This is my brother Dean." Her delicate hand went to her mouth.

"But he hasn't talked to you in how long?"

"Almost 13 years."

"Why would he come here?"

"I don't know. Whatever it is, it can't be good."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam took a breath, shook the shock from his body and looked at his caring wife. "Go outside. Somewhere around the house there should be a big black 1967 Chevy Impala. It would be in immaculate condition, find it, and then get inside and look for an army or militaryish bag. Bring it here." Jessica nodded and hurried to carry out the command.

"Dean." Sam said gently and tried to rouse his brother into an at least semi- conscious state. He needed to get the clothes off of his brother, they were caked with mud and stained with blood. Dean's eyes fluttered for a second and then were closed again. Sam repeated the prodding and finally got his brother's eyes to open to half mast. "Dean, I need you to sit up, I need to get these filthy clothes off of you." Dean didn't acknowledge the command he simply did the best he could to push himself up so Sam could get the black leather jacket off, and the button down, and the t-shirt, and then finally his undershirt. Sam pushed Dean to rest his forehead against his shoulder while he removed the soiled garments.

"Good lord Dean, how did you manage to get mud soaked clean through to your under clothes?" Sam asked softly. Dean made no answer, and despite the years of silence, Sam knew that the lack of answer spoke volumes as to Dean's mental injuries. "What hunt got you so tangled up big brother?"

Sam heard Jessica climb the stairs and he turned when she, in her snow covered jacket over her night gown, entered the room. "There wasn't any kind of Impala anywhere on the block. I looked."

Sam's brows drew together in confusion. Dean was never far from his precious car. Something was really really wrong.

"Could you go and get a pair of sweat pants, boxers, and a t-shirt out of my closet for him?" Jessica nodded and went to gather the things.

"Mommy?" Sara, Jessica and Sam's 8 year old daughter, asked sleepily from her bedroom doorway.

"Baby, you should be in bed."

"I heard you and Daddy."

Jessica knelt down next to her daughter. "I'm sorry we woke you."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about tonight."

"Who is in the guest room?" Jessica looked back towards the bedroom where Sam was undressing his older brother and worried at her lip for a moment. She didn't know what Sam wanted Sara told and what he didn't want her told. As far as Sara knew all of Sam's family was dead, so it would be quite a shock and a bit of intrigue for the curious 8 year old if the truth were told to her, and that would more than likely result in the child being underfoot, and it would be difficult if not impossible to get her back into bed. So, Jessica decided to give the child a half truth.

"That is an old friend of your daddy's, and he isn't feeling very well."

"Oh." Sara tried to peer around her mother to see the man and wasn't able to see anything past her father's broad shoulders.

"You go on back to bed."

"Can I meet him?"

"When he's feeling better." Jessica answered.

"Tomorrow?"

Jessica sighed and tried to keep her voice even for the child and said, "We'll see how he's feeling. You go back to bed, you have school in the morning." Sara tried to protest and Jessica gave her a stern look. "You will go to bed young lady and I will hear not a peep from you." Sara, sensing her mother meant business, took one last peek and nodded and went back into her room, Jessica closed the door behind the child and sighed.

When Jessica returned to the room, Sam had his brother stripped down to his boxers, boxers that had seen better years. "Just leave the cloths on the table will you? I'm going to finish stripping him and dress him." Jessica nodded, left the clothes and closed the door behind her.

"Brother, where did all of these scars come from?" Sam asked as he struggled to put on fresh clean boxers. "If I didn't know better I'd say it looks like you've been tortured. But I know better than that. Dad wouldn't let that happen to you." He reasoned and then turned his attention to putting an undershirt on his brother. "And that tattoo. What does it mean?" he asked as he slipped the fabric over it. "13 years will change a man won't it?" he said sadly and continued dressing his brother in clothes that were just simply too big for him. "I mean look at me." He said trying for levity. "I'm married, have a daughter, and a successful law firm." But after the words escaped his mouth it didn't feel right. It didn't feel right to be detailing all of the beauties of his world when his brother lay unconscious on his guest bed. And the scars. The scars that wrapped around his torso his arms and his legs made Sam swallow the tears away. No, it just didn't feel right to detail his life when his brother's had been so much harder and laced with so much pain.

He put the last sock on and looked at his brother and lamented that this was the way that he had to see his brother for the first time in 13 years. He had envisioned so many different scenarios, death being among them, but never did he see his brother coming to him in the middle of some frigid November night, wounded, without his beloved car, without a stitch of clothing save what was on his back, and looking so old, so worn, so scared, so tired. He ran a hand down the length of his face and pulled the afgan that was in the trunk at the foot of the bed over his brother's too still form, and then took the chair from the desk on the far side of the room, sat down, and sighed.

Jessica knocked. "He decent?"

"Yeah." She entered and put a hand on her husband's shoulder. Sam reached up and held her small hand in his paw.

"What happened to him?"

"I don't know."

"Did you see track marks?"

"What?"

"Track marks. Do we need to worry that he might have gotten into it with a drug dealer?"

Sam would have laughed if the question hadn't been so normal. His whole damn life was normal, and normal people don't ask questions like 'you think a demon got a hold of him?' or 'you think this was the work of a preternatural beast?' They asked questions like the one Jessica posed. Sam leaned forward and stared at his brother as if that would make him heal, as if that would rouse him to consciousness.

"No. It isn't drugs. That I know."

"Then what?" she asked softly.

"I guess we just have to wait for him to wake up." And that was truly the last thing Sam wanted to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean came back to consciousness the next morning disoriented and confused. He tried to sit up and failed, and was forced back onto his back. The movement moved too much blood inside his head, he decided, and his head only pounded more. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and took deep even breaths, if nothing else he wanted to at least manage the pain. And while he was so positioned he heard it. He heard the voices of his brother and his sister-in-law and his beautiful niece, and with their voices he knew where he was, and his stomach bottomed out.

He must be at his brother's absolutely beautiful home. A home that was not only beautiful, but idyllic, it looked like those homes you would find in a magazine. Sammy and his wife owned the house and the land that it sat on, which took up what most considered a city block. He struggled again to sit up, he couldn't be here, no matter how comfortable the bed, no matter how much he longed to see his brother and talk with him, or get to know his sister-in-law, or actually meet and play with his little niece. He couldn't bring that destruction into his brother's home. Too many sacrifices had been made to keep Sam in this life, and Dean's desire for family didn't mean he got to negate all of those sacrifices.

Dean forced his body to comply, he couldn't stay here.

SNSNSNSNS

"I'm going to stay home with him." Sam said as he searched for his cell phone. "Where in the hell did I put…"

"It's on the end table." Jessica supplied. "I can stay Sam," she said reverting to their previous conversation. "I don't mind."

"But you've got those kids to place, and Thanksgiving is in two days."

"Amy can place them."

"But the kids trust you." Sam sighed. "Plus, I want to be there when he gets up." Sam said.

Jessica stopped mixing the eggs and looked at her husband of nine years and saw, not for the first time, the longing to have his family around, saw the raw need for just a second, before he put it on lock down.

"Okay." She said softly. "I'll take him some breakfast."

Sam nodded. "I'm going to call Marsha and have her rearrange my appointments."

"Does he like bacon?" she asked as she filled a plate with eggs.

Sam smiled. "Yeah. Dean likes bacon."

Jessica finished filling a plate, poured a cup of coffee and headed upstairs. She knocked and then opened the door and found Dean struggling to get out of the bed. Jessica hurried and set the tray of breakfast down on the dresser and went to him, gently put a hand on his chest and eased him back down on the bed.

"No. I can't be here."

"Yes." She said patiently. "You can. You need rest. You are pretty banged up, and you need to let yourself heal."

"No. No." He tried to push back against her hands but she was stronger than he anticipated and she kept him firmly sat down in the bed.

"What? Am I a prisoner here?" Dean asked gruffly, hoping that she wouldn't like him and tell him to get the hell out of her house."

Instead of eyes filled with the hottest kind of anger, they were spilling over with amusement. "Breakfast first." She said and turned to retrieve the tray. "Then we can discuss your imminent escape." She said with a laugh. She set the tray down in front of him and he looked at her, and it took everything he had not to start to cry. It had been years since anyone had done anything out of kindness for him. He looked down at the eggs and bacon and steaming cup of coffee and his mouth watered, and his stomach growled at the prospect of such a feast.

"Thank you." He said finally.

"You're quite welcome." He took a bite of the bacon and he felt his eyes roll back in his head from the pleasure of the thing.

"Sam doesn't usually like my bacon. He says bacon shouldn't be black." Dean looked at the slice he had in his hand and by God it was burnt—very burnt. He was so hungry that he hadn't noticed.

"Sam doesn't know what he's missing." Dean said and gave her the first smile he'd given anyone in weeks.

"You just eat up. Sam said he'll be up as soon as he cancels his appointments for the day."

Dean stopped chewing and the burnt bacon in his belly went suddenly sour. "No. Don't let him do that. I'm not staying. He doesn't need to do that."

"He wants to." She said confused. "He hadn't seen you in 13 years. He wants to."

_He probably want to so he can scream at me for crashing his normal. And he should. I shouldn't have come here when I knew I wasn't thinking straight. God I'm such an idiot._ Dean nodded, promising himself that he would hurry through this delicious breakfast and be out of the door before Sam could come up and tell him off.

"I'll see you when I get home." She said as she headed for the door. Then an embarrassed little smile flicked across her features. "By the way, my name is Jessica."

"Dean." He said finishing the pleasantry. She turned in a whirl of golden curls and headed down the stairs.

Dean was so busy gobbling down the wonderful food and coffee that he didn't hear as the house emptied out. He didn't hear his brother come up the stairs, but Sam was at the doorway, watching when Dean turned around.

"Your clothes are in the washer." Sam said softly. "You looked as if you had been through hell and back." Dean licked his lips and tried not to see himself as two inches tall, but the effort seemed for naught, he felt as if he had fallen into Alice's world and eaten the wrong cookie, and now he was no bigger than the little green army man Sam had stuck in the ashtray all of those years ago. "Where's your duffel bag?"

"In the car."

"Jessica couldn't find the car last night, and I looked for it this morning, Dean it's nowhere."

"I stole a Ford."

"Where's the Impala?" Sam asked with a hint of concern.

"She's at Bobby's. Can't drive her right now. They'll find me."

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it Sam. I…I…don't know what I was thinking coming to your door like that."

"You were hurt." Sam said as if it made all of the sense in the world.

"I made a vow that I wouldn't do this to you. I vowed I would never destroy what made you happy."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Dean, you just slept on my guest bed for the night. That can't destroy my world."

"They'll find me." Dean said. "They'll find me, and that means I've broken…and they'll come…" Dean struggled to keep the tears that lately had been closer to the surface than he ever wanted to admit. "And I can't lose you too." Sam's blood went cold.

"Dad? Is he?"

Dean licked his lips and looked at his brother's pleading eyes. "Yeah, Sammy." Dean said voice rough and tight. "Yeah Sammy, he's gone."


	4. Chapter 4

Sam's eyes went wide and he clarified, "Gone as in like missing? Because we all know how dad can just up and go one day and not tell anyone where he's going…because that's how Dad is, you know that Dean…"

Dean stopped his brother by stepping closer and when Sam looked into the hard depths of green his mouth stopped, and Dean said softly, "No, Sammy, I watched him die. He's gone. Really and truly gone."

"When?" Was all Sam could get his mouth to say.

"About five years ago." Shock and sadness were quickly replaced with hot burning anger, the likes of which Sam hadn't felt in years, since Dad had said "If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back."

"You didn't think it would be a good idea to tell me Dean?"

"I wanted to tell you." Dean said defeated, not able to reach his normal overwhelming well of righteous indignation. "I couldn't."

"What the hell do you mean you couldn't? You pick up the God damn phone and you say, 'Hey Sam, Dad died.' Or better yet, you man up and come over here and you tell me yourself."

Dean looked up from the floor after Sam was done ripping him a new one and his eyes were dead, tired, and sad. "Dad died so you could keep living this way. If I had called or come over it would have broken the terms of the deal and Jessica and that beautiful little girl…" Tears flooded Dean's words and he stopped and reigned in his emotions and continued. "They wouldn't be here anymore. Demons wanted to kill them, wanted to bring you back into the game. Dad couldn't let them. Dad said that one of his sons had made it out, and he wanted to keep it that way. So, he made a deal."

All of the color drained from Sam's face. "What? What kind of deal?"

"A demon deal." Dean said quietly. "He made a deal with the demons, they would stay away from you and your family, and Dad would go to hell, Dad would give up his life, and he did." Dean sat back down on the bed and ran his hands up and down his face. "Their condition was that I couldn't go anywhere near you. I couldn't call you, I couldn't make contact with you. So, from a distance I made sure you were safe. There is a huge salt line around your property; there are devil's traps under the floorboards in your foyer, and under the carpet in front of every single room. I did everything I could to protect you, Jessica, and Sara."

"You've been in my house?" Dean nodded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't like breaking into your house. But it was all I could do to protect you and your family."

Silence hung between them for a few moments while both men tried to reign in their emotions. Dean was the first to be able to do so.

"I have to go. I can't stay here, I'm not supposed to be talking to you." He stood up and looked around for the clothes he had been wearing the night before, remembered that Sam said they were in the washing machine, and he grabbed his jacket from the chair. "I'll just go get my clothes , and I mail you these back, and…"

"What? I won't see you ever again?" Sam asked sharply.

Dean shook his head sadly. "No. No you won't ever see me again."

"No." Sam said simply.

"What?"

"No. I said no. That is an unacceptable answer Dean."

Dean drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "Sam, this isn't a case you can argue. There have been sacrifices made so you can have this life, and I can't screw that up."

"Then why were you knocking on my door last night?"

"I was concussed. I wasn't thinking straight." Sam sensed the lie and decided he wasn't going to let that go.

"You haven't spoken to me in 13 years, you didn't even contact me when Dad died, but now, after a minor scrape," Sam rolled his eyes, "a minor scrape for you, you come to my door and crumble on my doorstep. That isn't just you not thinking straight."

"Drop it Sam." Dean said and pulled on his boots. "Just drop it."

"No."

"Fine, don't drop it, I'm sorry I came, I shouldn't have interrupted your life." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. I risked way too much for this." He mumbled.

"You aren't leaving."

"I am too Sam. I'm leaving. You wanted us gone all of those years ago, and you are doing just fine without me in your life. And I want it to stay this way."

"Dean…"

"Sammy, you've done good." Dean shrugged. "I don't begrudge that. I'm proud of you. Dad was too."

Sam's eyes watered again and this time he wasn't able to stop the flow of tears. He wiped at them harshly with the back of his hand.

"You aren't leaving."

"You're a broken record Sam." Dean started for the door and Sam's huge paw grabbed his shoulder and stopped all forward movement.

"You aren't listening, like always. You aren't leaving."

"Sam, there are too many risks."

"This is my life, if I want to take risks…"

"But you aren't just risking you. You're risking the women in your life. And we all know what demons do to the women who we love." And that four year old who was sad, scared, and angry ran across Dean's face for a moment.

Sam swallowed hard and shook his head. "We won't let that happen to Jessica or Sara."

"Good to say, but when the demons come, when they find I broke the terms of the deal, they'll come for you Sam."

"Let them."

"You're a fool Sam." Dean said and hurried out the door, Sam hot on his heels. Sam chased his brother down the stairs and caught up to him before his hand could reach the door knob and with a quick wrist movement he turned Dean around and punched him square in the face. Dean fell and Sam was sitting on top of his brother, pinning him to the ground.

"You will not tell me what I can and cannot do Dean Michael Winchester! This is MY house, this is MY life, this is MY family, and I will make my own God damn decision, good bad or ugly. I'm the one who gets to make those choices!"

"I just want to protect you." Dean said weakly.

"I'm a big boy, I don't need my big brother to protect me. I can do that on my own." Dean was too groggy to say anything, last night's injuries being compounded with h is little brother's massive fist were enough to make him compliant. "I want you to stay. I want you to heal, I want you to get to know Jess a little, and meet Sara properly. If you don't leave the house, the demons will never know you've spoken with me. The terms of the deal won't be violated, and everything will be fine." Dean thought that Sam was being incredibly naïve just as the world crumpled in on itself and he passed out.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean woke up to hazel eyes that were less than a foot from his nose, and it startled him, and he jumped and tried to fling his hand up over his face, but the hazel eyes moved abruptly and he realized where he was. He was at Sammy's place. Sammy forced him to stay when he knew he should go.

"You're my daddy's friend. At least that's what my mom says." The hazel eyes said from the end of the bed. Dean ran a hand down his mouth and sat up. Sara sat at the end of the bed, her hair falling from the braid that Jessica must have done this morning.

"What?" Dean asked still a little stupefied.

"Mom says that you are my dad's friend."

"Yeah." Dean said and scooted up towards the headboard drawing his left leg up towards him. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm your dad's friend."

"How come I haven't ever seen you before?" she asked as she got off her knees and sat cross legged on the end of the bed. _ An answer must mean she thinks she's welcome to sit there._ Dean mused.

"I'm busy. Don't get much of a chance to come by and see him." Dean lied. He'd seen his brother lots of times in the last 13 years; he just hadn't been allowed to let SAM know that he'd seen him.

"Then you aren't a very good friend." She said with a defiant edge to her little voice. "Friends don't just go away and not even text." She said with all of the wisdom and patience a girl of 8 could give.

"You're right. I haven't been a very good friend to your daddy."

"Then why are you here?" Dean had to fight the smile that was brewing under the gruff façade he had enacted. She was a lot like her father at that age, but there was an edge to the little girl's demeanor that must have been all Jessica.

"I needed help."

"Because your face was bleeding?" she asked.

"Yeah." He said softly.

"My dad isn't a doctor. He's a lawyer. You should have gone to a doctor."

"I didn't know where one was in town."

"If you would have TEXTED, " the word texted was said with an eye roll, "mom and dad could have told you where one was."

"You're right. And he told me. And I'll be out of here, and be gone, before you go to bed. And I'll go to that doctor." He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"You won't come back?"

"No. I won't come back."

"But you're my dad's friend?" Dean hung his head. He was plum out of answers for the pint sized child. Thankfully Jessica was at the door.

"Sara. Go wash up for dinner."

"Momma…I was talking.." she said with self-importance.

"I don't care if you were talking to the pope. I said to go wash up for dinner."

"Yeas ma'am." Sara sighed and stomped out of the room.

"You up for some supper?" Jessica asked.

"I really should be going." Dean said looking around the room for his duffel bag.

"Stay for supper."

"I can't impose."

"You aren't imposing. You're family. We're having meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Your brother said you liked it."

Dean's stomach betrayed him and let out a loud growl. "Sounds like you do like meat loaf. Sam was right. Come on."

"Let me wash up." Dean said.

"Okay." She said and turned on her heal and headed back down the stairs.

Sam looked up from the oven and saw his wife and daughter coming down the steps, but he didn't see his brother. "Dean still sleeping?" He asked as he set the meat loaf on the counter top.

"I woke him up." Sara said as she climbed into her regular seat.

"Sara. You don't' do that to people." Jessica scolded. "How many times have we told you not to do that to people?"

"Sorry." She said in a huff. "He just sounded like he was having bad dreams." Sara said as she got comfortable on her knees.

"Did you ask him about supper?" Sam asked Jessica. She nodded and popped a cherry tomato from the salad into her mouth.

"He said he had to wash up before he came down." Sam closed his eyes and inwardly sighed. There was a window in the bathroom, and he wouldn't put it past his brother, bruised ribs or no bruised ribs, to climb out that window and drop two stories if he thought it was best for whatever reason.

"I'm going to go check on him and make sure he's okay."

"He looked pretty okay when I was up there." Jessica said.

"I know…but you know…after all of this time…with him being right here…I just…" She nodded. She bought the lie and Sam wanted to kill himself for having to give it.

Sure enough, Dean was in the bathroom, one leg and part of his torso outside. Sam grabbed his leg and hauled his stubborn brother back inside.

"Sam!" Dean admonished.

"You are not scuttling out of my house like some.." Sam reached for the word. "Like some burglar."

"Shoe fits and all that." Dean said with a sniff.

"You are not leaving."

"We had this discussion this morning. I can't stay."

"No! You are going to stay, you are going to eat the meal my wife prepared, and you are going to freaking enjoy it. You hear me?"

"I hear you just fine Sammy, but you aren't h earing me." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the bathroom vanity. "I bet ten to one that you haven't told that pretty little thing out there what the family business is, and I bet that she doesn't know how dangerous it is to have me here. And if you aren't prepared to tell her what demons are and explain to her why that demon just skewered her daughter and why a demon is on her ass, then I suggest you just let me fade away."

Sam unconsciously took a step closer to his brother, and they were practically nose to nose and angrily Sam said, "If things are so damn dangerous, then why in the hell did you come knocking on my door in the middle of the night?"

Sam watched his brother's eyes harden and burn with anger. "It was a mistake." Dean ground out through his teeth. "It was a fucking mistake." He growled. He tried to move away but Sam blocked his exit.

"Not an answer."

"It's the answer you are going to get."

"Not good enough."

"You will let me out."

"It's my house, I'll let you go when I want to let you go." Sam said coldly.

"I will stick this knife in your leg, if you don't let me get the hell out of here." Dean said, and Sam felt the tip of the knife just above his knee.

"I'll knock you out again before you can get that knife anywhere near my leg."

"Don't count on it Sammy. I wasn't ready this morning, I'm ready now, and you've been out of the game for quite a while. Trust me, I can cut you before you can get your fist ready to swing."

They stood there, toe to toe for a subjective eternity, and the steel in Sam's eyes began to melt away. "Why did you come?" He swallowed hard. "I've wanted to see you for so long, and here you show up, and now you're just going to leave?"

The only think that could melt Dean Winchester's heart was his baby brother, and Dean had thought that after all of this time, Sam could say anything to him and it wouldn't move him, but he was wrong. The puppy eyes on a 31 year old man could still melt Dean just like the 8 year old eyes.

"Are you two okay?" they heard Jessica's concerned voice from the door way. Sam turned to her.

"We're fine." Jessica's eyes flicked to the knife Dean held in his hand and then back to her husband's face.

"I don't believe that. What is going on?"

"Sweet heart, you don't want to know." Dean said at last.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I wanted to take a second and thank everyone for their very very kind reviews! I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

* * *

A sharpness overcame Jessica and she angled her chin upward and said defiantly, "I'll decide what I do and don't want to know, thank you very much. And right now I'd like to know why you have a knife pulled on my husband."

Dean and Sam simultaneously relaxed their posture and Dean slipped the knife away quickly. "We're just playing around." Sam answered.

"That's bull shit." Jessica's voice was getting louder. "You don't pull knives on people just because you are playing around."

"I was trying to stop him from climbing out of the window."

Her eyes widened and in addition to looking pissed she looked bewildered. "What in the hell were you doing trying to climb out of the window! You are a grown man. You leave by the front door. How old are you anyway?"

"Neither of you would accept that I need to leave. I had to take matters into my own hands." Dean said coldly, he didn't like being put in his place by a woman he hardly knew, nor did he like being backed into a corner and both she and Sam had done just that.

"If you want to leave so badly then get the hell out of here!" Jessica shouted.

"Finally, someone in this house is talking sense." Dean said and put his knife back into his pocket and moved away from his brother to leave the house via the FRONT door.

"No." Sam said and grabbed his brother by the heavily muscled arm. "No. He is not leaving."

"Why not? He obviously wants to go." Jessica said gesturing at him.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to get his thoughts and feelings in order. "It's been 13 years since I've seen my family. 13 long years. To be honest, I never thought I would see him, or dad, or Bobby ever again." Sam struggled to blink back tears. "Dad's gone." Jessica's face immediately softened at the words, and Dean turned away from his brother, unable to handle his grief and his own at the same time. "But Dean's here, even if it is just for a day or two, but I want to see him, I want to talk to him, I want to spend time with him, before he goes away again and never comes back."

The sound in Dean's voice melted all resistance, all reasons for needing to be gone and stay gone, chased away the thoughts of demons and danger, and finally it took the heat out of his defiance, he turned to see Sam's watery eyes and he said softly, "I'll stay Sammy, I'll stay for a day or two."

"No." Sam said tears flowing now. "No. You will stay through Thanksgiving. You will stay."

"Sammy…" Dean whispered as his own eyes were spilling with tears. "Sammy I don't know…"

"I don't care! I do not care what is smart or what the right thing to do is. I gave up my family because of that life, and I know that once you walk out that door, you aren't ever going to come back." Sam said echoing his father's words to him, words that haunted Sam every single day of his life, and had he known that they haunted Dean as well, he never would have repeated them.

Dean licked his lips and nodded. "You're right Sammy. You're right. Once I leave you won't ever see me again."

"Daddy? Mommy?" Sara asked from behind Jessica. The whole group of adults broke the sudden stillness and turned to the little girl.

"What sweetie?" Jessica asked trying to hide the tears that had escaped.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Nothing is going on. We were just getting Dean to come down and have supper. Go on back down stairs we'll be there." Sara gave the adults a look that clearly stated they didn't fool her, but she did as instructed.

Jessica was the first to recover and wiped her eyes and took a deep cleansing breath and looked at her husband and his brother and said in a matter of fact tone, "When Sara is in bed, I want some things explained to me. I want to know what is going on here."

"Jess.."

"I accepted it when we were young and you said that you didn't want to talk about your family. I accepted it at our wedding when your side of the church was empty save for a couple of friends. I accepted it when you decided to tell Sara that all of your family was dead. I accepted all of that. I'm not accepting this." She pointed to one and then the other indicating the situation. "I want to be in the loop. I want to find a way to have Dean in our lives if it is possible. Family is important. You taught me that Sam Winchester."

"Dean. Get ready for supper." She ordered and turned and followed her daughter to supper.

Sam relinquished his grip on his brother's arm and Dean worried at his lip for a second before saying, "You had a beautiful wedding. Jessica was beautiful." Sam's head snapped up.

"How?"

"I was there." He conceded. "I was in the back of the church, the last pew on your side of the church." Dean gave a sad little laugh. "I told Dad I went to make sure no demons ruined your special day. It was a nice ceremony little brother."

"I wanted you to be my best man but…"

"You couldn't get a hold of me."

"No. I tried. Your cell was disconnected, so I called Bobby…."

"I know. I was there when you did."

"What?"

"Dad and I both told him that if you called he was to tell you that he didn't know where we were. It was safer that way." Dean licked his lips and turned from his brother. "Safer. Everything since you left for Stanford has been for your safety, then it was to keep you and Jessica safe, and then when little Sara was born…" Dean shrugged. "Demons have been wanting you real bad Sammy, we've had to do all kinds of things to keep you safe."

"What kinds of things?"

They heard Sara yell for them again and Dean gave a sad little smile. "I'll tell you after supper, when little eight year old eyes and ears aren't there."

"You won't leave?"

"I'll stay the night."

"Stay through Thanksgiving."

"Only if you want me to."

"I do."

"You may not after I tell you all of it." Sam swallowed and nodded. He strode ahead of his brother and went to join his wife and daughter for dinner, and Dean hung his head, took a deep breath, and followed Sam.


	7. Chapter 7

The tension fairly hummed through the adults at the table, and little Sara Winchester was oblivious to the adult's issues. All she saw was the prime opportunity to talk the ear off of someone new. She told Dean all about school, how well she was doing, how she was the best reader in the class, and how she was in all of the "accelerated" classes.

While she was in the middle of recounting one of her achievements, Dean put his fork down and looked at the little girl square in the eye. "What did you do that made someone else feel good today?" he asked.

She squinted up her little face and looked at her mom and her dad for guidance, and she shrugged. "I dunno. What kind of question is that?"

"If you are in all of the accelerated classes you should be able to figure it out."

"Dean." Sam admonished. Dean looked down at his plate. For a moment, he had forgotten that he had no rights with this child. She didn't know him as an uncle, an uncle that would lay his life down for hers, she knew him as some random friend of her father's that came knocking on her door late in the night looking like a thug on television.

He sighed and looked back at the kid. "Your dad was real smart when he was your age too. Really good at school. He was in all of the accelerated classes too." Dean's eyes took on a glassy nostalgic look. Sam's chewing slowed as he listened. "Got every award there was. Reading awards, he won every single spelling bee that he entered." Dean gave a lazy smile as he remembered. "But your dad didn't' tell people he'd won any of that stuff. You had to ask him, and sometimes even when you asked him he wouldn't say anything about it. Sometimes you had to practically put the award in his face and ask him about it. He'd always shrug it off and say it wasn't any big deal."

"Daddy!" Sara exclaimed. "You didn't tell anyone?"

Sam hadn't remembered life that way. He remembered that getting those awards had been a big deal, but he remembered the look on his brother's face when their dad had praised Sam for the awards and then told Dean that if he had just worked harder in school he'd be able to get the same awards, but Sam and Dean knew that wasn't true, Dean struggled when it came to school, it was hard for him to learn as quickly as his little brother, just as hunting didn't come as easily to Sam as it did to Dean. So, Sam in an effort to take a page out of his big brother's book tried to shrug off his achievements as no big deal, but Dean always tried to make a big deal out of it. Even if it meant that Dean wouldn't watch television that night so Sam wouldn't have to deal with the noise while he studied. Something, anything to let Sam know he had done good.

"I told my brother, only because he would make me." Sam said trying not to look at Dean when he spoke.

"Why didn't you just tell him? Weren't you proud?"

"I was proud." Sam said and put his fork down. "But I knew that my brother didn't do very well in school, and I knew that it made him feel bad when he didn't bring home As and I did. So, I didn't want to hurt his feelings." Dean held his brother's gaze for a moment and understanding finally passed between them. Dean gave his brother a barely perceptible nod.

"Why? It wasn't your fault he sucked at school."

"Sara!" Jessica exclaimed.

Dean gave Jessica a glance. "It was because your daddy had compassion youngin'." Dean said gruffly, and put his napkin into his lap and looked at the little girl.

"What's compassion?" She asked confused.

"Look it up."

SNSNSNSNSNSN

When little ears and eyes were safely tucked upstairs and asleep, Jessica brought the men coffee, took a seat next to Sam and demanded answers. Dean gave her the short of it. Told her about monsters and demons and how they had been after their family since Sammy had been born, about shifters, vampires and the like. And Jessica, to her credit, listened and sipped at her coffee. When Dean was finished with the story, she turned to her husband and asked, "Is he telling the truth Sam?"

Sam licked his lips quickly and glanced from his brother to his wife and back again. He paused so long that she asked the question again. He took a deep breath and sighed. "Yes it is true."

She took a deep breath and looked at her husband. "I'm expected to believe this?"

"Yeah." Sam said with a sigh. "I know it is a lot to believe."

"Damn right it is a lot. It's not like you are asking me to believe that you had a secret love child with Cher…you're asking me to believe that your family hunts things that don't exist."

"They do exist."

"Prove it."

"No." Dean said decisively. "No. Sammy's worked too hard for this life. And there have been too many sacrifices made to protect this life and you and your daughter. No. No." Dean shook his head. "I will not do that." Dean looked down at his coffee knowing that this was where Jessica kicked him out and made Sam go into therapy.

"Kelsey Upton, one of my foster kids, she told me that vampires took her mom and brother."

Dean's head snapped up. "North end of the county?"

"Yeah."

"Real rural? Does Kelsey have freckles all over her cheeks and she has one front tooth that is turned funny?"

"Yes, how…"

"I killed the vampire before it found her in the closet."

Jessica went white. "Kelsey said a big man in a big black car saved her."

"That would be me." Jessica's hand went to her mouth. "I gave her my blue button down to wear because I got her out of the house in a hurry, and we didn't have time to find a coat."

"Oh my God. No one knew about that." Her eyes were as wide as the coaster her coffee cup was sitting on.

"You believe me now?" Jessica nodded.

Sam took her hand in his, and squeezed. "What are you doing here now?" She asked. "Is something after someone?"

"No. I came for my monthly rounds. I usually come while you and Sam are at work and Sara is at school, and update the wards around your house and property."

"You break into our house?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am I do. I break in and I make sure the devil's traps are in place, and I repaint the salt around your doorframes and windows, and I touch nothing else. I lock the door behind me, and I make sure the salt lines around the property are in place, and the devil's traps aren't broken. I wait in a tree and watch as each one of you gets home, gets inside safely, and then I leave. I only leave once I'm sure everyone is safe."

"Then why did you make yourself known this time?"

"It was a mistake. I was drunk, hurt, and not thinking straight."

"Are the demons done?"

"No, maybe, yes, I don't really know. I took out the one that killed mom…"

"What?" Sam asked incredulously. "You got the one that killed mom?"

"Couple of days ago. I took his ass out, and he'll never bother anyone ever again."

"That's where the bruises….?"

"No. No. That's not where the bruises came from. These came from a bar fight last night."

"Since when do you let someone get the better of you in a fight?" Dean shrugged. "I don't understand. Why aren't you happier? Why aren't you jumping up and down? You've done it Dean! You've done what Dad's been trying to do for 30 years."

Dean sucked in his bottom lip for a moment, and tears clouded his vision, "Because Sammy," Dean's voice trembled. "Because Sammy, he killed Bobby before I could kill him." The air was visibly taken from Sam. He went white.

"Dad and Bobby? Both of them?"

"Dad to protect you, and Bobby because I was too late, because I was too damn late!"

"Who is Bobby?" Jessica asked delicately looking from one brother to the next.

"Bobby did a fair amount of raising us. Dad would take off for days at a time, and when he took off for longer he would dump us at Bobby's, and Bobby always tried to do right by us. And after dad died…" Dean drug hands through his thick hair. "After dad died, he saved me. He kept me from drowning in a vat of alcohol. He kept me from running here and grabbing Sammy and running as far and as fast as I could, and he's gone."

And with sadness Sam realized the reason his brother was here. Sam was all Dean had left.


	8. Chapter 8

Jessica looked from one brother to the other and she put a hand on Sam's leg. He turned to her and his eyes were full of tears. She leaned over and hugged him tightly. He gripped her in return, and Dean averted his eyes, the moment served as a reminder of how alone he truly was, and it pained him just a little to know that no matter what happened from here on out, demons gone, demons still here, that he would never have this slice of domestic bliss. He would leave here, and he would never see Sam again, and probably die alone at the hands of something evil and nasty, and no one would know or care.

Jessica stood, sensing that the two of them needed to be left to each other, and as she passed she put a hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed. He looked up at her, his own eyes misty with unshed tears, and she looked into his, hers telegraphed sympathy. "I'm sorry Dean." She said softly and patted his shoulder and continued out of the living room and up the stairs towards the bedroom she shared with Sam.

"Did….did…" Sam swallowed.

"He didn't go easy." Dean said softly. "If that was what you were trying to ask."

Sam nodded, and the tears came down his face despite his best efforts, and he looked at his hands trying not to let his hunting hardened big brother see how soft he was. "Did they possess him?"

"No." Dean said his voice raspy with emotion. "No. After they possessed me we.."

"What?" Sam interrupted. "What did you say?"

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes were glassy now, and he wanted to let the tears go, but he couldn't let his little brother see how truly soft he was, so he fixed his eyes on his brother's and said, "Couple of years back, they possessed me, rode me hard for a week before Dad and Bobby found me. What was left of me." He mused softly. "That's why I got the tattoo. It protects me from being possessed again. And Bobby and Dad got one too, and it did its job alright." He said bitterly. "They couldn't possess Bobby, so they used him, they lured me to them, the yellow eyed demon wanted to meet me. They were using Bobby as an invitation."

Dean paused in the story and swallowed hard trying to get his emotions out of his throat. And when he spoke again everything was bitter and the words cut like glass, "When I got there, Bobby was chained to the wall, he was cut to ribbons. Blood.." he paused and swallowed. "Blood was everywhere, but he was alive. That was the consolation. At least that is what the demon said. Said that I should be happy, that he didn't just kill Bobby. No, I just got to watch Bobby die. Just like I got to see Dad die, just like I got to see Pastor Jim die, everyone, I've had the distinct pleasure to watch die." Dean couldn't stop them this time, the tears came down. He angrily wiped them from his face and stood up and strode to the picture window, into the picturesque November night.

"I killed that son of a bitch right there. I didn't even flinch. I pulled the trigger and killed that evil bastard." Dean's voice quaked. "I took them all out. Every last one of them, without any concern for the poor bastards they were possessing." Dean crossed his arms. "Then it was just me Sammy. Just me. All alone in that room full of dead people, and I lost it. I lost it Sammy. I got plastered, started a fight and found myself here. I shouldn't have come. Dad wanted you safe, and I promised that I'd keep you and your girls safe, and here I am screwing it all up."

"Dean." Dean didn't turn around, couldn't turn around. Sam stood and came closer to his brother. "Dean." He repeated and forced his brother to turn around.

"Don't' Sam. Don't."

"I'm sorry." Sam said finally.

"It's not your fault Sam. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"If I had known…"

"But you didn't." Dean interrupted him. "And it's better that way."

"How is that better?"

"Because you get to have the pretty wife and the kids and the acre of land, and the sweet job. It's better this way."

Sam's mouth opened and closed and he wanted to say something, he wanted to refute what his brother said, but he couldn't. He didn't want to give up this life for the one his brother was living. But he didn't want his brother living it either.

"Bobby left me the house and the salvage yard. Gonna put down some roots there I think." Dean said softly as if he wasn't talking to Sam at all. "Maybe I'll just man the phones and do some odd jobs here and there for hunters who need it." He gave a small laugh. "Maybe I can have a nice job and an acre of land too."

Sam looked at his tired, haggard, beleaguered brother and felt guilt welling up in the pit of his stomach. Guilt for not mending fences with his dad, for not seeing Bobby one last time, and guilty for letting Dean hold all of this crap on his shoulders for so long. He didn't regret his life, but looking at Dean, broken and battered made him feel guilty that he didn't regret more.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam forced himself out of his thoughts and said, "You want a drink? I need a drink." And without waiting for a reply from his brother he went to get the alcohol he needed.

Dean watched his brother's retreating form and sighed, sat down and scrubbed his hands down his bearded face. He was regretting everything right now. He was regretting coming here, regretting interrupting his brother's life and most of all he was regretting that he just laid all of that crap on his brother. Sam didn't need to live with the crap that Dean lived with, and he most certainly didn't need to have Dean's emotional shit shoveled onto his shoulders.

Dean sighed, what was done was done. He couldn't take it back, no matter what kind of supernatural stuff he knew, he still hadn't found the one that took him back in time and fixed stupid things said.

Sam came back into the room, snapping Dean out of his mental ass kicking, and handed his brother a glass of amber liquid. They saluted each other and Dean took a drink. He wrinkled his nose at his brother.

"Dude you make more money in a week than I've seen in my entire life and you drink this watered down…." Dean stopped realized something and then gave a small grin. "Holy water. You laced this with holy water."

Sam smiled over his glass. "Yes brother, I did."

"Way to go Sammy."

"I didn't forget everything you and Dad taught me."

"Obviously not." Dean downed the glass.

"But how was I to be sure that your story was true, and that you really are my brother. Gotta make sure."

"Bet we ate with real silver forks tonight too."

"Yuppers." Both brothers grinned at each other and Sam produced the bottle of spirits and poured both of them another glass. "So, how long ago were you possessed?" Dean's face instantly sobered, and his first thought was to tell Sam that it was none of his business, and to get the hell out of dodge, but he had crashed his brother's home, with his presence he had managed to put everyone in this house in danger, the least he could do was answer his brother's questions—no matter how difficult, or how painful. He looked at his glass, and downed it without a thought. He needed the liquid courage if he was to get through this conversation.

"It was right after you got married."

"You said that you were at the wedding." Sam said also hoping he could get a little of that story out of him as well.

"Yeah. I was." Dean smiled to himself and the picture of Sam and Jessica on the mantle caught his eye. "She was beautiful that day, all glowing and radiant, and smiles. And you looked so happy Sammy. So completely and truly happy." Dean played with the glass for a moment and then looked up at his brother. "I was jealous of the guy that stood next to you, who was your best man. When we were younger I always figured that it would be my spot if it was ever in the cards for us to find hot chicks and marry them."

It was Sam's turn to look into his glass and avoid eye contact with his brother. "I wanted…" Dean held up a hand stopping Sam from finishing the sentence.

"Old crap Sam. It couldn't be helped, it was just the way things were. Nothing we can do to change it, and honestly, it isn't something that should be changed. In order for you to get here…" Dean gestured around him to the house and all of its contents. "I couldn't be here. It's just facts." Dean sighed reached for the bottle and poured another glass. Dean took a drink and then looked at his brother.

"But you didn't ask about the wedding, you asked what it was like to be possessed." He finished his drink in a gulp. "It was a couple of days, maybe a week, after your wedding, I was in Wisconsin chasing a lead on a ghost or something, at the time I didn't know what it was, and I was at a bar, and there was this hot chick there, super hott." Dean said with no trace of his usual smirk or of real fondness of the memory. "I took her back to the motel." Dean shrugged. "Did what I do, and we fell asleep. Or I thought I fell asleep. Turns out she whammied me and the demon got all up inside me." Dean toyed with the glass for a minute. "Most of the time you get to be unconscious when a demon rides you. Nope. Not for me. I was conscious and going the entire time. Turns out they needed me awake so that I could tell them where you were….where you had gone on your honeymoon."

"Her parents gave us a trip to France."

"I know." Dean nodded. "Thank God for small favors." Dean let out a breath. "And when the demons found out that I wouldn't tell them anything, they started the torture." Sam handed the bottle over to his brother, he'd just finished pouring himself a drink and sensed that Dean would need some fortification for the rest of this story. Dean took the bottle with a nod and poured enough to fill the entire glass and downed it.

"They started with going around and killing hunters I knew, using my face and my hands to kill P.." Dean stopped wiped his forehead and took a deep breath and said, "Pastor Jim."

Sam's eyes went wide. "They made you kill Pastor Jim?"

"Yeah, that was the wakeup call, the demon said. Said that if I told them where you were then they wouldn't kill any more people I cared about."

"I wouldn't tell them. I wouldn't. And they realized that killing the people I love wouldn't do it, that they needed to torture me. When Dad and Bobby found me, they found me almost dead, on the floor of some warehouse, filthy, naked, bleeding, and babbling."

"Why didn't you just tell them where I was?" Sam asked softly.

"Sell you out? After all of the work you had done to get the normal, and to have such a pretty woman, and a good woman by all accounts love you? Damnit Sam that is the holy grail in our lives. I wanted you to have it. And something about it just seemed wrong, why would the demons go to all of this trouble to find you? What is so special about you that makes them go to all of these great lengths to find you?"

Sam leaned back against the couch and looked at his drink. He hadn't thought about that before. That was a really good question. "I don't know." He finally said looking at his brother.

"I don't either, but it seems to me, that if they want you that badly, that it can't be good."

"That also begs the question, why would they let Dad sacrifice himself so I wouldn't be hounded by demons? That seems to be counterproductive."

Dean's eyes widened and he ran a hand down the length of his face. "Probably because they knew that if they killed everyone I knew and love, that I'd eventually come right here, and do exactly what I'm doing." Dean closed his eyes hung his head and muttered. "Damnit."


	10. Chapter 10

Dean stood up, "I've got to go."

"Dean…"

"I have to get out of here. I can fix this." He said frantically as he hurried for the door.

"No! Stop!" Sam said as he grabbed his brother by the back of the shirt.

"What are you going to do huh? The damage has been done."

"But I can fix it. I can fix this."

"You said that already. What in the world could you do to take this back? To fix this?"

Dean looked his brother straight into the eyes and Sam knew—knew without a shadow of a doubt that Dean was about to do something incredibly stupid. "No." Sam said firmly. His eyes never wavered from his brother's. "You are NOT going to do that."

"I have to Sammy."

"No."

"It's the only way." Dean said firmly.

"I don't care."

"I need to keep you and your family safe."

"Dean. You are not going to sell your soul in order to protect my family. It didn't work when Dad did it—"

"Only because I blew it Sammy/ If I hadn't come here, if I hadn't let my emotions take control of me…if I hadn't been so God Damn Needy and Stupid, this wouldn't be happening. Dad's deal would still be intact, and you wouldn't be in danger now." Dean started pulling away from Sam, but Sam's death grip on his shirt didn't waver. Dean swung and his fist connected with Sam's jaw, Sam had no choice but to let go of his brother's shirt. He staggered back, anger in his eyes and he lunged at his brother, and the two tumbled hit, and clawed at each other until Sam, bleeding from the lip, breathing heavily, was sitting on top of his brother, pinning him to the ground, holding his hands in a vice like grip in front of his chest.

"This is MY house, this is MY family, and I get to decide what is safe and what is not safe for them." Sam said huffing and puffing. Dean was trying not to look away, trying not to cast his eyes down and remember that Sam wasn't talking about him, he was talking about those two pretty ladies upstairs, and Dean didn't let his defiance waver because it was the only thing keeping him from being lost, lonely and scared.

"I'm trying to help you protect Your house, and Your family, I don't want them hurt anymore than you do. And by my presence here, the demons are going to come after them. And if I don't try to make a deal, the demons are going to keep coming, and I don't want to see their lives, your life, ruined because I had a weak moment."

"You aren't listening Dean Winchester!" Sam said exasperated. "You never listen!"

"I heard you, you asshole! You want to protect your family! You aren't listening to me! You never listen to anyone, you never have!" Dean retorted.

"Dean! You are my family too! I don't want you hurt!"

"Sure could have fooled me!" Dean yelled as he began to struggle against his brother's weight. "Where in the hell were you while the demons were slicing and dicing me? Where were you when they possessed me and made me hurt…" Dean's voice crack. "When they made me hurt a child! When they made me kill a man? Huh! If you didn't want to see me hurt, then when did you leave? Why did you leave me alone to suffer by myself!? I needed you! You may not have needed me, but damnit! I needed you!"

Dean knocked his head against the floor, and hit again for good measure. He wished that he had a spell to reverse the clock and make everything that had just flown straight out of his big mouth could be tucked back inside his brain, and he wished that he hadn't let the lock get quite so rusty on that pain, on that fear, on that wish. Now he felt like an idiot. Now he felt weak. Now he felt less.

"Get off of me!" He yelled and began struggling harder against his brother. The light clicked on and Jessica stood in the light looking down at the two men.

"What is going on?" She asked concerned. Sam looked up at her and it was just the opportunity that Dean needed, he used his shoulders and shoved his brother off of him and struggled to stand up, still a little disoriented from the knock down.

"I'll be out of here in a minute. I'm sorry for waking you." Dean said politely and rushed towards the stairs.

"Dean!" Sam called but it didn't do any good, Dean ignored him and continued up the stairs as fast as he could, away from his brother, away from his embarrassment, away the only people in the world who would help him.

"What is going on Sam?" Jessica repeated again.

"It's a long story."

"Why are you bleeding?" she asked.

"We had a little fight."

"Sam….you don't fight."

"I used to." He said softly. "I used to fight all kinds of things, get all kinds of bumps, bruises and cuts." He said and heard his brother hurrying through the guest room throwing his things into a bag quickly, just the way their dad had taught them all of those years ago. _I used to have my brother's back. _Sam thought sadly.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

While Sam beating the tar out of his brother and pinning him to the floor couldn't keep Dean in the house, one hug from Jessica melted his brother, and she took his bag from him, steered him into the kitchen and brewed coffee, served both men the coffee, all without saying a word.

She sat down in front of Dean and looked him in the eye, and he couldn't meet her gaze, he suddenly found his coffee cup very interesting.

"What is going on?" She asked softly.

"He wants—" She put a hand on her husband's arm.

"Sam, sweetie, I love you, but I need to hear it from him." She smiled at her husband and leaned against his shoulder.

"What is going on?" she asked Dean again.

Dean's eyes flicked up to hers for a moment and then back down at his coffee. He licked his lips and sighed. And when his eyes finally met hers, something primal in her knew that she should be afraid of this man who was sitting in front of her. She shifted in her seat and instinctively moved closer to her husband's body, and Sam wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm putting you in danger. I need to get out of here so I can do something that will protect all of you, and Sam won't let me."

"How are we in danger?"

"My dad sacrificed himself to protect this family, the condition was that I would stay the hell away from Sam, and never speak to him, they killed everyone I love, and I was weak and I came here, and broke our end of the deal. They will be coming after Sam and you and your daughter. And the sooner I get the hell out of here the sooner I can fix what I broke."

Jessica, looked at Sam confused. "Is what he says true?'

"Mostly. But he's leaving out one big piece."

"What?"

"That he would have to die in the process." Her head snapped around and looked at Dean, who had straightened his spine and was looking more formidable than he had since Sam had practically carried him into the house the night before.

"I made the mistake. I need to clean it up."

"But with your life?"

He shrugged. "Big mistakes, mean big sacrifices."

"What? No! Isn't there another way?"

"No."

"I can't live with you dying to keep my family safe. I can't do that. No. You aren't leaving."

Dean's eyes caught fire, his fist connected with the table so hard that the coffee cups bounced on the table. "Are you two stupid! Your daughter! That beautiful little girl up there! My niece could die because I came here. My life is a small price to pay, especially since I'm the one who fucked this up!" Dean stood up.

"Don't leave." A small voice from the doorway said. Dean's eyes filled with sadness, and he put his bag on his shoulder and left.


	11. Chapter 11

"Go back to bed Sara."

"Is he coming back?"

"We'll make sure he comes back baby. Just go on back to bed, I'll be up to tuck you in, in a few minutes." Sara reluctantly turned and slowly started to walk the other way when Jessica impatiently said, "Now Sara Amanda Winchester!" There was a loud huff and the sound of feet on stairs.

And as soon as those sounds diminished Jessica whirled on her husband, her eyes blazing and she smacked him on the shoulder. "You're just going to let him leave like that?! Go stop him! He can't…do…whatever dangerously stupid thing he intends to do for us!" As she ranted she grabbed her coat and slippers and was getting ready to go out there and after a man she knew very little and stop him.

Sam reached out and put a hand out, stopping his wife from rushing past him out of the door, he ignored the glare she was giving him and put his other hand into his pocket and pulled out a couple of wires. "He's not going anywhere without spark plugs." Sam said calmly and watched out of the front window.

She stopped all motion and looked up at her husband surprised and awed. "You knew?"

"That he'd try to leave all heroic like?" Sam nodded sadly. "Yeah. I did. Dean is a lot of things, but he is always willing to give everything he has to protect others, even if that means giving up his life, that is something about my brother that will absolutely never change. No matter how old he gets or how long it has been since the last time I saw him."

And sure enough Sam he saw his brother angrily making his way back to the house, he threw open the door, and if looks could kill, Sam would be dead and set on fire.

Dean got into Sam's face, fractions of an inch from his brother's nose. "You give me those God damn spark plugs now." Dean said in a low grumble that would have sent most men to their knees, and probably made most of the immortal supernatural baddies that his brother fought stop and think for a second. But Sam wasn't an ordinary man, he was a Winchester, and Winchesters didn't scare that easily.

"No." Sam said simply.

"Give them to me." He said again.

"What part of you are not leaving don't you understand Dean?"

"Whatever. Car, no car. I'm getting the hell out of here." Dean went for the door, opened it, and the door slammed shut in front of him. Dean's expression changed from one of anger to one of alert, and he reached for the gun in the back of his jeans.

"You aren't going anywhere, _Uncle _Dean." Sara stood in the doorway, nightgown moving in the power of the invisible wind that the demon inside the little girl carried inside of her.

"Sara?" Jessica asked in a quivering voice.

"That's not Sara anymore." Dean said softly. "What do you want?" Dean asked the demon."

"Oh, I've got everything I want right here. I have the entire Winchester clan." The demon wearing his niece's face came to stand in front of Sam. She stood on her little girl toes, polished in princess pink, and ran a hand down Sam's chest and gave a flirtatious smile. "I have little Sammy Winchester. We've waited a long time to have you in our sights Sam."

"Get out of my daughter." He said, his voice quivering with fury.

"Oh, really Sam, is that the best you can do? Can't remember those exorcisms that you had memorized all of those years ago?" Sam licked his lips and tried to recall the first words of the exorcism that all of those years ago had been like a reflex, but the words wouldn't come, he couldn't even form the sounds that he needed in order to form the words. He was so stuck on the fact that it was his little girl who was housing the demon that he was rendered speechless.

"Big bad Sammy Winchester can't do it anymore." The little girl spun and clapped her hands. "This is perfect! It all went according to plan!"

"What plan?" Dean finally asked.

"To wussify your little brother." She said in her little girl voice. "Sam could have been one of the most feared hunters in the world, but thanks to a few well-placed demons, he went to college instead of staying with you, he married instead of helping you and your father and that old coot stop yellow eyes, he became a laywer and a father instead of knowing what was going on out there and preparing for it. It made him weak. It made him ordinary. So, now, what will you give me to leave your precious daughter in one piece?"

"What?" Sam asked

"Sam. Stop. Don't talk to it." The demon turned from Sam and set its sights on Dean. The little girl walked closer to Dean and grabbed his hand and began to examine his calloused fingers. It took all Dean had not to jerk back in disgust.

"Oh Dean, really? You're going to tell your brother who he can and can't talk to? That's rich. Even for you." Tinkling laughter erupted from the little girl. "Coming from the man who's soul was sacrificed for Sam's safety, and the only catch…you couldn't come see him or talk to him or have any contact with him." The laughter erupted again. "And here we are, because you are sooooo lonely, so pitiful, so sad, so totally and utterly pathetic, you wasted your father's bargain, you wasted his life, and you are now the one responsible for him suffering in hell for eternity for absolutely. No. reason. What-so-ever." She pirouetted again and laughed.

Dean's nostrils flared and anger burned in his dilated eyes. Through gritted teeth Dean began, "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,_" The demon inside the little girl began to scream. When Dean took a breath she blurred to him and had him by the throat, effectively stopping the words.

"Angry much? Anger clouds your judgment Dean, clouds that feeble little mind of yours. No devil's trap, no exorcism. And if you try to pin me in one, I'll destroy this little girl. I may end up back in hell, but this little girl will be dead. Is that what you want?"

Dean looked over and Saw Jessica crying and his brother struck and panicked. He brought this down on them. If anyone in this room was going to die, it wasn't going to be this little girl who had him by the throat, it was going to be him, this would be Dean Winchester's last rodeo.


End file.
